Lookin’ for a nip in the air

It;s August 14, 2010 and the goin’ is slow. Heat, and more heat comin’. For me, it’s do a little, rest a little, do a little more, rest and live in semi hibernation. The slow life is not something I’m used to. But what else is there Mr. Universe. Hot! hot! and hot some more. Tough it out says I. Bon soir—Jay

6 Replies to “Lookin’ for a nip in the air”

  1. About the heat and our decreasing ability to handle it as we age, I can only offer this little remembrance from Provincetown,1965.
    It was just after eleven at night and you had sold a ring to a couple who had also ordered sandals. It was a hot night, and you were wearing sandals and white overalls. I was sitting on a stool in the corner, waiting for them to leave,so I could get paid. As you and they were conducting your business, Marilyn yelled down the stairs, “Jay Starker, are you going to come up here and **** me or not?”
    A few minutes later, as these last people were leaving, the woman turned and asked you if you were sure the sandals they had picked were the best ones for them. In response, you lifted your right foot onto the top of the counter-height showcase, pointed to it and told her that was the right one.
    At that moment, I fell onto the floor in a hysterical fit of laughter, and the customers departed. You wanted to know why I was laughing, and I couldn’t breathe enough to tell you that, when you had lifted your foot to the top of the showcase, your bijoux de famille had dropped through the enormous ripped seam in the corresponding part of your overalls, dramatically framed by the whiteness of the fabric.
    That was when you, too, fell to the floor and joined me in the hysterical laughter. A very impatient Marilyn came downstairs and demanded to know what was so funny, which just made it harder for us to breathe, so she started prodding us to speech with her feet, which didn’t help.
    Eventually, we could tell her, and she did find it amusing. Then I went down the street to Poyant’s Cafe, and you went upstairs to Cafe Marilyn.
    It doesn’t have to be those heavy denim overalls, either, because you can air-condition any pair of pants.

    I hope that little story helps you, and brings back what is to me a fond memory. This is my third attempt to contact you through your websites, and I hope this one works. If you remember me and don’t like me, I can live with that; but, you need to tell me, so I can stop bugging you.
    I doubt India and Chaya remember me, and Franz was Franzie the last time you and I spoke, back in 1977. I’m glad to hear they are with you. I miss you, old friend. Let me know how to reach you by phone on a landline, so you don’t have to pay for it.

    Be cool,

    Peter

  2. Hey Mad Peter! (This is India.) I remember your nick-name but that’s about all. I just published your comment (censored for my sensitive ears–Mom was such an embarrassment to me when I was in gradeschool). Nice to see you are around.
    Papa emailed you.

  3. Hi, Jay,
    I totally agree with you about the heat! Finally it’s fall in Louisville, high of 70 degrees; Bob and I are off to the Irish Festival. I want to send you a card and am not sure of your address, so would you send, please?
    Wish you were with us today. I’ll write more soon.
    Love you,
    Suzanne

  4. I just left you a message on your home page, Jay. I’ve been worried about you. Are you ok? I hope so and that you are celebrating tonight and looking forward to a happy 2011. I will always think of you as one of my best friends ever!

  5. Jay, I’m still trying to get a response from you. I just wrote India on the blog. Since you have no entries for 2011, I am thinking the worst. Please write to me. Love you always! Suzanne

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